Ragebox
by EE's Skysong
Summary: He would have to be so cruel,but maybe that’s why he was the one here. He was the only one who could do it, the only one who loved her enough to let her hate him.' An alternate way the game could have started.


Disclaimer: "How fine you look when dressed in rage."

(AN: Just an alternate way the game could have started. Sort of shippy, I guess, but I can't help that.)

The Mad Hatter rested his hands on his cane. "Things are going bad."

The Cheshire Cat appeared not to be paying attention, although his ears flicked in that direction, and he responded with a bitter, "What was your first clue?" He stretched and flexed and twisted, trying to get used to his body. Wonderland was a place of opposites, but even there some things held true: when you ate, you were supposed to gain weight, not lose it.

"I know you've been having your own problems—"

"More than you know," the Cat muttered.

"—But there's no need to be rude," the Hatter finished, ignoring that. "The few of us who know what's really going on must stand together, or, well…" The Hatter looked away.

The Cat paused, frowning—his only expression these days. "What is it?"

The Hatter swallowed hard. "The Red Queen's dominion spreads farther and farther, but that's not what worries me as of late. The darkness is what concerns me, and it breeds far more quickly than any of their lot." The Hatter pulled the brim of his top hat down so the Cat couldn't see his eyes. "Lately, I have felt it—I have felt it even in myself."

The cat stood perfectly still for a moment. Bit by bit, he relaxed, although he found himself eyeing the door.

"Don't be ashamed," said the Hatter softly. "We're all afraid now—at least, those of us lucid enough to know what's going on. It's best that you go, before things get worse… while you still can, I mean."

The Cat did not believe in wasting time on goodbyes or regrets, but he paused in the doorway when the Hatter called his name. "Find her," was all he had left to say.

The Cat nodded, although he had no intention of doing any such thing. He wanted to reassure his friend—considering how far downhill things had gone with some of his former allies, this was probably the last time they would speak—but things weren't that desperate, not yet. The White Rabbit would agree with him on that front.

After all, he couldn't be the only one who hadn't forgiven her yet.

O-o-O-o-O

"So the Hatter's beyond us now, too…" The White Rabbit twitched as much as the Cat, but from nervousness. He lived in a section of Wonderland infested with the Red Queen's henchmen, and while he had once been her servant, he was still in danger all the time—although considerably less than the rest of those who stood against the queen. "It's very bad now, isn't it?"

"Obviously," said the Cat, eyeing the village below them with disgust. "Why do you waste your time here? Nothing's going to come of it. These people are too broken to help or be helped."

"Nothing is too broken, not when it's your home." He twitched a little bit and leaned toward the Cat. "Anyway, this will be the mostly likely place she will come."

The Cat jumped back, the hairs along his spine standing on end. "Why does everyone here keep saying that?" he demanded, when he could speak without hissing. "She's not coming back. She's never coming back. That—that _girl_ doesn't care about us!"

The White Rabbit folded his arms, looking for all the world like a petulant child instead of a dignified (if rather fitful) official. He and the Cat had had this argument before, after all. "Alice _will _come for us—she must! She is our savior. No one else can do it."

The Cheshire Cat folded his tail around his legs, trying to disguise his anger. He licked his paw and washed one of his ears to avoid looking at the Rabbit. "_Must _and _will_ are two very different words, Rabbit. Just because she has to doesn't mean she'll follow through."

The Rabbit fixed the Cat with a glare very unlike his usual timid, wet-eyed gaze. He made the Cat think of a religious fanatic sometimes, his eyes all glazed over with hope and his mouth always quick to repeat a maxim. "Only because no one has told her of our problems yet. With the proper prompting—"

"Why should _we_ be the ones to reach out to her?" the Cat snapped, turning away from the Rabbit. "She left us! This her fault, and she should come here to clean up her mess on her own!"

"Alice is in no state to do that, and you know it." The Rabbit pursed his lips. "She is just as unwell as we are, and in just as much danger." The Rabbit put his paw on the Cat's shoulder. "She needs as much as we need her, don't you see?"

The Cat stalked out of reach. "What is this talk of need? _I_—"

"Don't try to deny it, Cat," said the Rabbit in a forceful tone much unlike himself. "She hurt you—she hurt us all—but that doesn't change the facts." He sighed. "I can already see that you're not going to listen, but I'll ask anyway: will you go see Alice? She will have to find her way alone, but that doesn't mean she won't need a guide."

The Cat kept his back turned. His tail was thrashing, and, despite himself, he could not keep the sadness out of his voice. "A guide? That's all I was to her. That's all I've ever been. The Hatter, at least, was her friend. So then why am I the one still untouched—more or less—by this all?" He looked over at the Rabbit, trying to hide his melancholy under rage. "Why am I the one who must call her here?"

The Rabbit sighed. "You don't have to. Any of us could… but it's you who should, and you know it."

The Cat echoed his sigh. "Yes. I know. But those are also very different words."

O-o-O-o-O

The Cat sat in front of a portal, trying to look nonchalant and knowing it wasn't working. He could go to her any time he wanted to without its aid, but…

"But I'm a coward," he muttered. "No pretty words or clever phrases will ever cover that up."

He had hoped the portal would inspire whatever courage lurked within him, but it only served to depress him. The Cat was not one much given to indecision—but then, where his mistress was concerned, he was always very little like himself. Cats were designed to hold grudges, yes, but the feelings that had inspired his—

But even visiting Alice would be easier than thinking about _that._

He began walking in circles. If he went to her, all of this would end… at least, his problems. He had no opinion about Rabbit's idea of her as a savior—it was her as a woman that was causing him such grief, a woman that had left him and his world to rot alone while she hid behind guilt and malaise.

The Cat paused. But if he went to her, he could turn that fear and self-doubt into anger and force of will. She would come then, as Rabbit wanted, and her rage would spur her to end the Queen's rule, as everyone else wanted.

And he would get to see her, and everything else was a moot point.

The Cat jumped through the portal before his pride could speak up.

O-o-O-o-O

The Cat emerged in a dark, wet, and disgusting room, empty but for a thin girl in a bed, staring at the wick of an extinguished candle. There was nothing else to mark the room, but that wouldn't have mattered anyway; the Cat could see only her.

The bright flash of the portal didn't seem to bother her, but when he stepped toward her, she spooked. "Who's there?" Alice demanded of the darkness. The Cat leapt lightly onto her bed; Alice flinched away. After a moment, she relaxed and rested a hand on his head. "Hello, puss," she murmured in a voice hoarse and rusty from disuse.

"Is that really the only greeting I get, Alice?" said the Cat, butting his head against her touch. "After all this time you've let me rot?" He couldn't help the bitterness in his voice, but it didn't matter anyway; Alice froze the second he spoke. "What, have you forgotten me already?"

She remained still for a moment, and then, reflexively, she started petting him. "You've changed quite a bit," she whispered.

The Cat wanted to be angry, but he looked at her face and couldn't manage it. She was just so… frail. All the life he remembered was gone now. She was a husk, an empty shell, and the burns were as livid as if the accident had happened yesterday instead of eleven years ago.

He could never be angry with her anyway. No matter how hard he tried. "You're not exactly yourself, either." She tilted her head, but he was looking at the dirty mattress and kneading his claws in the disgusting fabric. He would have to be so _cruel_—but maybe that's why he was the one here. He was the only one who could do it, the only one who loved her enough to let her hate him.

So he cracked his neck—not difficult, since it was little more than bone wrapped in skin—and looked at her again. "At least I'm doing something for myself, Alice." She flinched again, turning away. The Cat rested a paw on top of her hand and dug his claws in, just lightly; she drew in a sharp breath, but she still wouldn't look at him. "At least I'm not moldering in a hospital bed while my friends are—ah—wasting away." Still nothing. The Cat's eyes narrowed. "At least I can't help that I'm dying."

Finally, finally, she looked at him; the pain in her eyes was like a weight pulling his shoulders down, but he ignored that and kept his spine straight. She was too upset to think clearly, but if she caught on that he was lying, the whole thing would fall apart. She drew in a sharp breath. "But… Cheshire… I don't know what to do—"

"Liar!" She drew back, her eyes wide. The Cat bared his teeth. "Don't even bother. I am yours, Alice. You created me. I know your heart as well as my own, so it's useless to try."

Tears in her eyes, Alice looked at him for a moment longer, and then she wiped her face. When she looked at him again, her eyes were hard, and her hand was tight on his back. "You're right. What do I have to do?"

For the first time in so long, he _grinned_. "That's my girl," he purred, arching his back into her touch. It hurt to see her like this, too, but at least he was doing something. He hopped off the bed and stepped into the shadows, listening to her light footsteps as she followed.

(I decided to finish this in order to celebrate Alice II. Here's hoping they've kept the same VAs!)


End file.
